


Disillusioned

by hannahrhen



Series: Disillusioned [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Anger, Angst, Bodily Fluids, Drabble, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Miscommunication, Pseudo-Incest, Sibling Incest, Slut Shaming, Thor Being a Jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It was an illusion, Thor,” he spat after he was certain of his own control. “A trick is what a whore does for money.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disillusioned

**Author's Note:**

> **Back story** : So, someone did a GIF of Thor and Loki having the "trick" dialogue that appears at the end of the story, and that inspired me to go to a perverted place. When the GIF was removed from its original location, I tried to re-find it, only to discover the dialogue was originally sourced from Arrested Development. Which is simultaneously awesome and deeply, deeply disturbing. Here's the [AD clip](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1WSH0VzoaM)! Oh, and here's the [AD-spoof GIF set](http://ashgaytchum.tumblr.com/post/40080438263), back again.

As Thor stood from the bed to collect his clothes, Loki deliberately stayed, unmoving, where he’d been left. Didn’t bring his legs back together. Didn’t even begin to clean himself, or the fouled linens. Wanted Thor to look. To be forced to _see_.

Thor had done this to him, and so should face it. Loki remained still, merely surveyed his own ruination: muscles stretched beyond the point of comfort and just now settling into an ache that would haunt him for days. Blue-black fingerprints—handprints—blossoming on his arms, his hips, likely his ass. Lips swollen, sensitive as he slid his tongue across them.

There he tasted their mingled seed, which was now drying, tacky. He wiped a bit from the corner of his mouth, then sucked the fingertip in. Thor, oblivious, had found his breeches and pulled them on; from what Loki could tell with his brother faced away, he was trying to make _something_ of the laces they had ripped in their haste. Unlike Loki’s, Thor’s golden skin bore no fresh marks.

The pulse of memory of Thor’s punishing impatience brought Loki’s attention down to the dark place between his legs, still worked open, almost cruelly, by the earlier violations of his brother’s thick cock. Seed from the repeated (and so well-met) assaults keeping the hole slick, keeping Loki hyper-aware of how thoroughly he had been used that evening.

Thor was pulling his tunic over his head. Loki took a moment to observe, with hidden pleasure, the twist and pull of muscles in his brother’s back, the broad shoulders turning into the thick chest and trailing down to his hips. Narrow, but obviously not much so, Loki smirked to himself as he finally, carefully stretched his legs, started to draw them back together. Savoring the aches of being ravished— _ravaged_ —by his hulk of a brother.

Thor had turned back toward the bed, boots in hand. Was himself observing Loki. As much as Thor’s mind could be as simple as a still lake, occasionally thoughts ran below the surface that Loki couldn’t see. 

When he met Thor’s eyes, he was … unsettled by the expression he found. His brother—his brutish, ill-thinking, long-goaded brother—had given in that night and toppled him, fucked the words from his mouth, the grace from his limbs. Taken him again and again, never with a smile or warm caress.

Loki had loved it in their fucking.

Now … he wondered what Thor saw when he surveyed the bed, the debauched mess that had been his cool, cold brother.

“That was a fine trick, Loki,” was what Thor finally said. What Thor finally accused him of, unfamiliar darkness in his voice.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He would not— _would not_ —gape. “It was an _illusion_ , Thor,” he spat after he was certain of his own control. “A trick is what a whore does for money.”

A potent silence passed as Thor stood, still watching, a harsh gleam in his eyes. Loki tried not to shift, not to recompose himself under the gaze.

Then Thor reached into the pouch attached to his belt. Pulled out—

The fistful of gold showered the bed, each piece bouncing once or twice on the linens gathered around Loki’s feet. Loki was disbelieving as he looked back up, met angry blue eyes.

“Like I said—a fine trick.” Thor turned and walked from the room, door slamming heavily behind him.

The coins glinted wickedly at Loki as he drew his body up, into itself, and forced his confused mind to think—only—of vengeance.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo ... yeah. This was my attempt at getting as dirty as possible while still being willing to post. Uh, yay? 
> 
> Can't say what actually transpired ahead of time, where the miscommunication came from--if you have a guess, feel free to share it in the comments!
> 
> Thanks for reading, y'all! You can find me publicly hand-wringing over my writing, or fangirling over other people's, on Tumblr: <http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com/>


End file.
